Chapter 18
Previous Chapter * Maple Tea Café, Grove City, California * Monday, April 13, 201X, 12:04PM PST Han was pacing back and forth nervously in front of the Maple Tea Café, waiting for Silvia to arrive. He had walked from his workplace and was a little sweaty from the heat. He picked up a menu, partially to fan him and partially to have something to read to help calm his nerves. As he debated if an $8 pudding was actually worth it, he perked up to the sounds of tires screeching and a motorcycle drifting around the corner. The motorcycle stopped right in front of Han and the rider took her helmet off, dark hair flowing around her. Silvia Meadows. She stood tall with her riding boots, and wore a harsh leather jacket over her pale blouse. Silvia gave Han a polite smile. “Hey.” “Hey,” replied Han. “Let's eat.” * * * Han and Silvia were sitting at a table outside of the café and were exchanging some small talk, having both ordered their food. Han had caved and bought the pudding. It was airy and delicious. “So I've recently been employed at AX Corp–” “Antiquities Xtraordinaire?” interrupted Han. “Yes,” said Silvia with an air of stiffness. “I'm working there as an appraiser slash curator. Basically, I go around appraising artifacts and antiques and assess their worth.” Han dug into his food, grateful he had his pudding to distract himself. “How are the other coworkers?” asked Han. “Did you make any friends yet?” Silvia shook her head. “Not just yet. There are some girls like me, but the day I was hired, there was a whole influx of new secretaries. They're too methodical, and too perfect. They give me the creeps.” Silvia shuddered. “They're like robots.” As Han and Silvia continued to catch up about their lives, the mood became more lighthearted. Han felt a bit silly for feeling so nervous about the meeting. It was only just Silvia; she’s the same person as she was since high school. Still, last week’s events weighed heavily on Han’s mind. He needed a second confidant, and Silvia was one of the few people he trusted. “Silvia, I wanted to bring something up. Something serious.” “What is it?” Silvia asked, taken aback at the sudden change of the tone. Han took a quick look around. There were other customers, but they were off in their own world. He looked inside. The young workers were busy taking people's orders. No one would notice. Han closed his eyes and exhaled. He opened them suddenly, eyes briefly flashing orange. He felt the inside of his mind reach out and touch Silvia's. Silvia flinched at the sudden sensation, but she let her mind open up, accepting the intrusion. “I'm surprised you're using this in the open,” came Silvia’s voice in Han’s head.'' '“What is it?” With Han’s power, they could now communicate their thoughts telepathically. To onlookers, they would just see Han and Silvia sitting in silence. “Last Saturday, I was biking up in the mountains,” thought Han.'' “I saw a weird meteor that crashed in the distance, so I went to investigate. When I got there, I saw two metahumans fighting.”'' Silvia raised her eyebrows. “I don't know what they were doing,” continued Han. “''But one of the men – Onyx – he said he was from Organization MERLIN, and that he was capturing the other person. I stepped in to help the other man, and I barely made it out alive.”'' Han let Silvia mull all this news over, her brows furrowed. She was staring hard into her food. “Han, why are you doing this?” Silvia wondered after a moment of silence. “What do you mean?” “Han, you remember why we – you know, split apart? How I wanted to explore my powers, while you wanted to lead a normal life? So why are you getting involved now?” Han paused. He couldn't really think of a reason why other than, “If there's some force out there capturing people like us, then there's no way I can feel safe anymore.” Suddenly, a high-pitched beep sounded in Han’s ear, jolting him a bit. He pressed his finger to his ear, turning on Fenix’s communicator. “What is it Nick?” “Nick? What? He’s nearby?” Silvia was confused. “Oh,” said Han aloud. “Whoops,” ''he continued in his mind. “It’s Nick, he’s talking to me right now on my comm.”'' Nick’s voice came clearly through the speaker into Han’s ear. “Hey, are you near a TV?” “Yeah, there’s one in the café, why?” asked Han. “There’s some breaking news at the museum. It’s really close by to you, isn’t it?” Han got up from the table and walked inside with Silvia following. “What is it?” she asked. “There’s some breaking news at the museum,” explained Han. The two made their way near the front counter, where there was a TV hanging on the back wall. It was displaying a live aerial view of the nearby museum, and it zoomed onto a mysterious figure in a dark cloak walking out from the entrance. The news banner read: Breaking News: Attack at Grove City Museum, Officers Dead. A few customers and employees were already watching intently. “Oh my god,” whispered one of the girl workers, in shock. Her hair-dyed coworker stood next to her, stone-faced. The figure in the video pointed something long and gleaming towards the direction of police officers behind their cars. A black line shot from the object, and the cars erupted in a fiery explosion. The people in the room gasped in shock. * * * * Grove City Museum of History and Art, Grove City, California * Monday, April 13, 201X, 12:24PM PST Flashing red and blue lights colored the front of the grey building. Police cars were parked around the entrance of the museum in a wide semicircle. Inside, the elderly curator nervously wiped sweat from his brow as he – for the twentieth time – described to the detective what had happened. “Not a'' sword, officer! ''The sword! Honjo Masamune, made by the legendary sword-smith Gorō Nyūdō Masamune, was thought to be missing for centuries. And now, both the sword and the scabbard have been stolen!” “Uh-huh,” the detective nodded disinterestedly and scribbled into his notepad. The curator breathed a sigh of lament. He winced when he turned to look at the broken case, glass shattered everywhere. The curator turned to the sleep-deprived detective and continued. “We weren't even able to examine the blade yet,” the curator sighed. “We tried to remove the scabbard, but we suspect centuries of rust and grime was preventing us from doing so. But it is said that Masamune also possesses a legend behind it. The sword cannot be unleashed unless the wielder is pure of heart and says the incantation ‘Honjo Masamune, cut my enemies down!’” “Uh-huh.” The detective grew noticeably less patient. “Please!” begged the curator. “The sword exhibit is on loan to us from Japan! We must get it back!” “We’ll see what we can do. But, if the perpetrator broke in last night and disabled the security systems, then they’re obviously long gone.” “Or maybe Worth is right here.” A slithery voice rang from above, surprising the detective and the curator and causing them to look up into the shadowy ceiling. Hiding in the darkness was a tall man dressed in navy cloak, and he dropped from his perch and landed no more than twelve feet away from the two. Other policemen heard the commotion from the other room and ran in, drawing their guns next to the detective. “Freeze! Don't move!” The detective pointed his pistol straight at the man. “Alright you renaissance freak, put the sword on the ground. Slowly!” he barked. The mysterious man smiled a cruel smile, and held up the stolen Masamune. “I thank it for the words. Now, Worth can have a little fun. Honjo Masamune, cut my enemies down!” The sword groaned, but with a swift tug, Worth unsheathed the sword, lighting up the museum room with steely light. He then swung and pointed the blade at the detective, and a black pulse of light erupted from the tip. The detective fell instantly. The officers opened fire, but Worth moved like a midnight blur and easily avoided the incoming death. In the blink of an eye, Worth cleanly cut down all of the police officers. He flicked the blade. The sword wasn't even bloody. The curator screamed. “B-but that's impossible!” the curator stuttered. “The legend! Only the pure of heart should be able to wield that sword!” “The legends say that the heart must be pure,” said Worth as he slowly walked towards the curator. He pointed Masamune at him. “It never said ‘pure good’.” Masamune turned night-blue, and another black pulse erupted from the tip. The curator saw the pulse travel at him in slow motion. The darkness filled his vision, and then it became the only thing he could ever see. * * * As the onlookers in the Maple Tree Café watched intently at the screen, Han had tuned his communicator to the Grove City police frequency and was filling Silvia in on the details. Silvia turned to him. “Han, we have to go.” ''“But Silvia!” ''Han wanted to protest. ''“'This guy is obviously not normal. We may be the only ones right now who are able to stop him.” Han reluctantly nodded and followed her on the way out. Silvia thrust a second helmet into Han’s hands. “Don’t worry Han. It’ll be just like old times.” Next Chapter